Tuesday, August 1, 2006

American Indians protest biker rally nearing sacred siteBy Stu Whitney, USA TODAYSTURGIS, S.D. — Once a year, amid the hammering August heat, this Black Hills hamlet becomes a bikers' paradise by hosting the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally — a weeklong celebration of leather, bikes and beer that draws as many as 500,000 riders. That's in a town of 6,400 in a state of only 776,000 people.It's also a tradition for local critics to decry the increasing size and commercialism of the 66-year-old event, which once again will congest highways and hotels (and jails) when rally week starts Monday.

This summer's clamor is louder and more emotional, however, mainly because of a clash that pits Native American heritage against chrome-and-steel capitalism.

The battle is being waged over Bear Butte, a mountain 6 miles outside Sturgis that the Plains Indians have long considered sacred. Indians from across the USA are gathering today for a four-day summit, and protests — including efforts to deflect biker traffic from the site — are planned.

With a trend toward open-air biker bars and concert venues, the rally has crept closer to the butte. This summer, construction began about 2 miles north of the mountain on a 600-acre campground billed as the "world's biggest biker bar." The camp is within sight of where Native Americans gather to fast and pray.

"In the past, all the partying was done near town, but now they're going to surround our sacred mountain and desecrate it, drink on it, and leave their trash when they go back to where they came from," says Vic Camp, 31, a Lakota from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.

Tempers flared last August, when Arizona entrepreneur Jay Allen announced plans to build the giant biker bar and entertainment complex on Highway 79.

Camp and other Native Americans have gathered on tribal land north of the butte to protest the granting of beer and liquor licenses to Allen and other property owners. They claim that rally-related noise disturbs the sanctity of a spiritual place whose past visitors included Red Cloud, Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull.

The protesters, joined by some area ranchers, are requesting a 5-mile "buffer zone" around Bear Butte, a state park where buffalo roam freely and colorful pieces of cloth hang from trees to symbolize expressions of prayer.

"Just imagine if they told all the Christians in America, 'You guys can't go to church ... until we're done partying,' " says Camp, who is joined by about 100 other Native Americans, with more on the way for the summit and protest. "This mountain that you see here is a sacred altar — it's our church, school, and hospital all in one," he said. "We have men up on the hill right now who are fasting and praying, and they have to listen to cement trucks driving by and the pounding of hammers."

Much of the rancor is directed toward Allen, the outspoken owner of the famed Broken Spoke Saloon in Sturgis. He first wanted to call his new complex "Sacred Ground," complete with tepees and an 80-foot Indian statue.

Allen abandoned those ideas and changed the name to Sturgis County Line after criticism from Indian groups. He hasn't backed down on his vision, with future plans calling for 150,000 square feet of asphalt and an amphitheater to seat 30,000 concert-goers.

"I get death threats on a weekly basis," said Allen, who first attended the Sturgis rally as a leather gloves vendor in 1986.

"But I have been nothing but respectful to the Native Americans, and I tried to use this as a tool to enlighten people about their lifestyle. Their tradition isn't going away, but ours isn't either." Allen's new venue will consist this year of about 100 RV sites, and crews are working feverishly to finish a bar, vending and music areas before the rally begins. "This isn't a five-star restaurant," said Allen, who plans to travel to the rally from Phoenix in a 1954 Greyhound double-decker bus. "As long as I've got ice-cold beer and good music, we'll be OK."

A group of local volunteers, including Native Americans, called the Bear Butte International Alliance is promoting a "Don't Ride 79" campaign, urging bikers not to travel on Highway 79.

"We probably will stop the traffic from going on this road, but we're going to do it in a peaceful and respectful way," Camp said. "We're not against the bikers, and we're not against the Sturgis rally."

Meade County Sheriff Ron Merwin offered a note of caution about protesters trying to stop traffic.

"I wouldn't say we're expecting anything more than the normal rally concerns," Merwin said. "But if they start backing up traffic on Highway 79, those bikers are not going to be happy."

Camp insisted that if there's any violent action, it won't be initiated by Native Americans gathered at Bear Butte.

"The elders instructed us to go about this in a very peaceful way," Camp said. "They asked us to come here with our pipes and our sacred eagle feathers and staffs to bring many nations together.

"If it is provoked, it will be provoked by the other side — by disrespectful bikers coming through and hollering at us and spitting at us, like they have done at other protests."

Thursday, July 27, 2006

American Indians Protest Bar DevelopmentBy CARSON WALKERThe Associated PressThursday, July 27, 2006; 4:34 AMSTURGIS, S.D. -- American Indian tribes trying to protect their sacred Bear Butte have purchased land around the Black Hills historic site to keep it out of the hands of developers eager to serve bikers who roar into town every year for a raucous road rally.According to Meade County records, three tribes have spent $1.3 million over the last two decades to buy 2.6 square miles of land around usually serene Bear Butte, where colorful prayer flags line a hiking trail and Indians have come for centuries to fast and hold ceremonies.Construction crews work at the site of a new campground near the foot of Bear Butte Wednesday, June 14, 2006 outside Sturgis, S.D. The butte, a rocky mound on the northeast edge of the Black Hills is a sacred American Indian site where tribe members have been coming for centuries to fast and hold ceremonies. For over twenty years tribes nation wide have been buying up parcels of land around the 3,100 foot butte to protect it from being developed into another area biker bar or site the caters to the upwards of 500,000 participants of the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally that will be held Aug. 7-13 this year. For a week every August, the sound of the South Dakota wind is replaced in the hills by the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. This year's rally is Aug. 7-13, and Indians from several tribes are camping out near the butte in protest of bars and other entertainment venues they feel violate the sanctity of the 3,100-foot mountain."The mountain is sacred to us," said George Whipple, executive director of Tribal Land Enterprise, an arm of the Rosebud Sioux Tribe. "Therefore, the cultural and spiritual value of the land was what was significant to us. By keeping with that tradition, we're also keeping it from being developed into a beer garden."The butte _ an ancient volcano that never erupted _ and the land immediately around it are in a state park, but surrounding areas are open for commercial development. That development has been driven in part by the road rally, which attracted 525,000 bikers last year.Despite the land purchase by tribes, the Meade County Commission has approved several alcohol licenses for sites near the butte. Commissioners have said they have no basis to deny alcohol licenses and people have the right to use their land as they see fit."The Legislature gives us the power to issue the permits based on character and location," said Commissioner Curtis Nupen. "We have those two factors to take into account."Character can be an issue if an establishment regularly has run-ins with the law; location concerns include proximity to churches and places where children gather, Nupen said.With the increasing demand for land near Sturgis for businesses that cater to bikers, it's getting too expensive for even the richest of tribes to buy land and leave it idle, Whipple said."Agriculturally, you couldn't buy a piece of land up there and make it pay," he said. "Unless you're going to develop it or make money off the beer sales and the rally, you're spending a lot of money for not much return."Indians have gathered at Bear Butte this summer ahead of the rally to protest development, likening the mountain to a church.Alex White Plume, president of the Oglala Sioux Tribe on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, helped organize a camp near the butte's base designed to draw tribal members and leaders to a Gathering of Nations Treaty Summit in the days before the rally. Indians also plan to march from Bear Butte to the Meade County Courthouse in Sturgis during the rally.All events will be peaceful, organizers said. They hope to persuade some bikers to voluntarily stay away from commercial sites east of Sturgis."We're here to defend our sacred site," Plume said. "We have to learn to get along, but we also have to have mutual respect for each other and that's not happening today."http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/07/27/AR2006072700157.html

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

window.onerror=function(){clickURL=document.location.href;return true;}if(!self.clickURL) clickURL=parent.location.href;By Carson WalkerASSOCIATED PRESS11:56 p.m. July 26, 2006STURGIS, S.D. – American Indian tribes trying to protect their sacred Bear Butte have purchased land around the Black Hills historic site to keep it out of the hands of developers eager to serve bikers who roar into town every year for a raucous road rally.According to Meade County records, three tribes have spent $1.3 million over the last two decades to buy 2.6 square miles of land around usually serene Bear Butte, where colorful prayer flags line a hiking trail and Indians have come for centuries to fast and hold ceremonies.Advertisement');-->

on error resume nextMM_FlashCanPlay = ( IsObject(CreateObject("ShockwaveFlash.ShockwaveFlash." & MM_contentVersion)))For a week every August, the sound of the South Dakota wind is replaced in the hills by the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. This year's rally is Aug. 7-13, and Indians from several tribes are camping out near the butte in protest of bars and other entertainment venues they feel violate the sanctity of the 3,100-foot mountain.“The mountain is sacred to us,” said George Whipple, executive director of Tribal Land Enterprise, an arm of the Rosebud Sioux Tribe. “Therefore, the cultural and spiritual value of the land was what was significant to us. By keeping with that tradition, we're also keeping it from being developed into a beer garden.”The butte – an ancient volcano that never erupted – and the land immediately around it are in a state park, but surrounding areas are open for commercial development. That development has been driven in part by the road rally, which attracted 525,000 bikers last year.Despite the land purchase by tribes, the Meade County Commission has approved several alcohol licenses for sites near the butte. Commissioners have said they have no basis to deny alcohol licenses and people have the right to use their land as they see fit.“The Legislature gives us the power to issue the permits based on character and location,” said Commissioner Curtis Nupen. “We have those two factors to take into account.”Character can be an issue if an establishment regularly has run-ins with the law; location concerns include proximity to churches and places where children gather, Nupen said.With the increasing demand for land near Sturgis for businesses that cater to bikers, it's getting too expensive for even the richest of tribes to buy land and leave it idle, Whipple said.“Agriculturally, you couldn't buy a piece of land up there and make it pay,” he said. “Unless you're going to develop it or make money off the beer sales and the rally, you're spending a lot of money for not much return.”Indians have gathered at Bear Butte this summer ahead of the rally to protest development, likening the mountain to a church.Alex White Plume, president of the Oglala Sioux Tribe on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, helped organize a camp near the butte's base designed to draw tribal members and leaders to a Gathering of Nations Treaty Summit in the days before the rally. Indians also plan to march from Bear Butte to the Meade County Courthouse in Sturgis during the rally.All events will be peaceful, organizers said. They hope to persuade some bikers to voluntarily stay away from commercial sites east of Sturgis.“We're here to defend our sacred site,” Plume said. “We have to learn to get along, but we also have to have mutual respect for each other and that's not happening today.”http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/nation/20060726-2356-bearbutte.html

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

In 1857, 30,000 Sioux and Cheyenne gathered at Bear Butte in South Dakota to plan how to deal with white settlers moving in on their sacred land. Native American warriors launched attacks on wagon trains from the mountain, incidents which are now commemorated in historical plaques along the highway. In 1874, Indian fighter George Custer visited Bear Butte, two years before making his infamous "last stand" at Little Bighorn. Chief Crazy Horse also spoke there, calling on his people never to sell the land.

In 1857, 30,000 Sioux and Cheyenne gathered at Bear Butte in South Dakota to plan how to deal with white settlers moving in on their sacred land. Native American warriors launched attacks on wagon trains from the mountain, incidents which are now commemorated in historical plaques along the highway. In 1874, Indian fighter George Custer visited Bear Butte, two years before making his infamous "last stand" at Little Bighorn. Chief Crazy Horse also spoke there, calling on his people never to sell the land.

The windswept mountain is sacred to about 30 regional Native American tribes, a spiritual respite for vision quests, healing, learning and praying. And they are still fighting to defend it from white men. Now instead of pioneers in covered wagons, their nemesis is a biker turned developer who is proposing one of the world’s largest biker bars at the foot of Bear Butte.

For about two weeks every summer, the stark hills and mesas of Bear Butte rise above an incongruous backdrop: hundreds of thousands of bikers from around the US and Europe attending the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Bikers camp at the Buffalo Chip campground about four miles from the mountain, drink beer and cheer rock groups like Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Native Americans in the area are offended by the drinking and debauchery at the foot of their sacred mountain, but they have grudgingly tolerated the motorcycle rally for the about 60 years it has been going on. Now they are furious that an Arizona biker and developer wants to turn the biker party scene into a year-round presence, with a sprawling biker bar and campground within two miles of Bear Butte on it’s currently undeveloped north side.

"We’re trying to defend this mountain that’s sacred to our people for many generations, but we’re fighting against millionaire developers," said Victorio Camp, 31, a Pine Ridge reservation resident who grew up doing vision quests at Bear Butte. "This mountain is a place where spirituality comes from. It’s a place where we gather medicines and do ceremonies. It’s hard to go up there and pray when you have 100,000 motorcycles driving by."

Developer Jay Allen started out as a participant and leather vendor at the Sturgis rally. He was a regular at the Broken Spoke Saloon in a former Sturgis lumberyard. He ended up buying the bar in 1993, and then opened a chain of Broken Spokes in Florida, New Hampshire and South Carolina. For his new 600-acre development, he made clumsy efforts to reach out to Native Americans. He announced plans to call the complex "Sacred Ground," and feature an 80-foot statue of an Indian, a tipi village and an "educational center" about Native Americans – many bikers do feel an affinity with Native Americans and want to learn more about their culture. (Some bikers also oppose Allen’s development, and testified against his application for a liquor license at a public hearing.)

Local tribes did not appreciate Allen’s gesture, however, seeing it as a case of adding insult to injury, especially considering the history of the area.

Bear Butte is part of the Black Hills which the Lakota feel were stolen from them by the US government after the Treaty of Ft. Laramie in 1868. In 1923 they filed a lawsuit charging the land was seized without just compensation, and the suit slowly made its way through the courts all the way up to a US Supreme Court decision in 1980 in which the Justices upheld a lower court decision awarding the Lakota more than $100 million for the land. Tribes have refused to accept the money, instead continuing to demand that the land be returned.

Last fall the foundation was laid for Allen’s 22,500 foot bar, a huge asphalt parking lot and a 30,000-person-plus music venue he has said will serve "the biggest music acts known to mankind." (Allen could not be reached for comment, and Sturgis rally organizers declined to comment).

Meanwhile another developer has applied for permits for another bar and campground nearby. And venues for the summer rally have encroached closer and closer to the mountain, which is mostly a state park with areas reserved for Native ceremonies. Defenders of Bear Butte are calling for at least a five mile buffer zone between the mountain and new development.

Organizers of the Sturgis biker rally, which is no doubt a crucial part of the working class town’s economy, declined to comment on the biker bar plans. A county commissioner said that since Allen owns the land and his plans meet local codes, there is no reason for the government to interfere.

Camp is particularly concerned that the development is on the north of Bear Butte, whereas the rally festivities are mainly on the opposite side around downtown Sturgis.

"All this traffic from Sturgis will be coming by now," he said. "We’re worried about the animals, the wildlife."

Native Americans also don’t like the fact that drinking alcohol will be allowed and probably rampant at the music venue and campground.

"They’ll all be drunk, looking at our mountain, and they won’t see it as such a beautiful, pure place; they don’t know the majesticness and power the place has," said Camp. "They walk around naked and drink and ride bikes; to us that’s very disrespectful."

"You wouldn’t have this in front of a church, synagogue or hospital," added Lakota activist Debra White Plume. "That’s what Bear Butte is like to us."

Different tribes have formed the Bear Butte International Alliance to oppose the development, and petitioned the county to put Allen’s liquor license up for a county-wide vote. (Their request was denied). In late spring, 27 Cheyenne teenagers ran a two-day, 190-mile relay from their reservation in Montana to Bear Butte in protest. Tribal members plan to keep fighting Allen’s plan and other development proposals in various ways. Within the past few years their lobbying has helped defeat other development proposals, including a shooting range.

"We just want to hold on to what little we have left at this mountain," said Camp. "As Lakota it is our duty to protect the earth. We’re just trying to have people understand why it’s such a sacred place. But it feels like our rights are being stepped on again, the same thing that’s been happening since Columbus came."

Native Americans from around the country will come to Bear Butte in August for a summit on protecting sacred sites. White Plume said they are planning protest actions in Sturgis, and they plan to contact musicians who have played or might consider playing at the rally or new arena.

"We see it as a desecration not only of a mountain but of our way of life," she said. "This is a genocidal issue to us. If they kill this mountain, they kill our way of life."

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Kari Lydersen is a freelance writer whose work has appeared in the Washington Post, In These Times, LiP Magazine, Clamor, and The New Standard.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Sturgis, South Dakota, is a town of about 6,500 people, but come August the population explodes, as half a million bikers and motorcycle enthusiasts ride in like cowboys, clad in leather vests and bandannas for the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. This year's event, however, promises to be met with resistance from the area's original inhabitants and other First Nation peoples from across the continent. They are protesting not only the onslaught of bikers but also a development at the base of a sacred hill outside of Sturgis called Bear Butte.

Anne Keala Kelly: Native American activists are braced for a tense summer, as a motorcycling entrepreneur goes forward with plans for a resort that will draw hundreds of thousands of bikers to the sacred site of Bear Butte.

"I have a hard time in the white man's way. They pray to this guy called God, but he's gold. It's all about the almighty dollar. Their priorities are money," said Alexander White Plume in a phone interview from his home in Manderson, South Dakota. White Plume is acting president of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, and he, along with hundreds of others, organized protests and spoke at recent public hearings over whether or not a liquor license should be given to Arizona businessman Jay Allen, who plans to build a 600-acre biker extravaganza adjacent to Bear Butte.

Allen operates an interstate chain of four biker bars called Broken Spoke Saloon, including one in Sturgis, which bills itself as the largest biker bar in the world.

Meade County Commissioners voted unanimously in April to grant a beer and malt beverage license to Allen for this new saloon in his chain, and then voted in June to allow transfer of a liquor license to the venue.

The original name of Allen's project was Sacred Grounds, and until Lakota and other nations raised objections, Allen intended to erect on the site an eighty-foot-high statue of a Native person praying. From Allen's perspective, he has treated the indigenous population fairly, noting through a spokeswoman that local tribes had passed up two opportunities to purchase the land he ultimately acquired.

At issue on both sides of this argument over the proposed development is more than expropriation of the intellectual property of indigenous peoples. It is a reminder of the vast cultural differences that exist between First Nation peoples and those who are drawn to what once was their tribal land.

One only needs to read Article 1 of the 1868 Treaty of Fort Laramie and compare it with what has happened over time to understand the profound conflict between the two competing paradigms: "From this day forward all war between the parties to this agreement shall forever cease. The Government of the United States desires peace, and its honor is hereby pledged to keep it. The Indians desire peace, and they now pledge their honor to maintain it."

Enacted by Congress, the treaty codified the Sioux Nations' ownership of the Black Hills. But the treaty's opening words, "From this day forward," really only meant for the next six years, because in 1874 General George Custer and some nineteenth-century entrepreneurs, known back then as miners, breached the treaty and found gold in the Black Hills, reigniting what are called the Indian wars. Eventually those events led to white settlers hunting down Natives and either forcing them onto reservations or, as happened at Wounded Knee, disarming them and then murdering them.

Despite the dispossession of Native people and erosion of their sovereignty, the Lakota, Arapahoe and Cheyenne still go to Bear Butte to practice their religious ways. Scores of other nations have maintained connections to the butte since ancient times, making the journey there to pray much the way Muslims make the pilgrimage to Mecca. Lakota and other First Nations people aren't the only ones opposed to Allen's plans to develop Bear Butte as a haven for bikers. Some white ranchers and business owners say the Sturgis biker rally has gotten out of hand and have joined coalitions such as the Bear Butte International Alliance, which are planning to conduct civil disobedience training. Meade County, where Sturgis is located, boasts a population of only 25,000, but every year locals brace themselves for Rally Week because as many as 650,000 bikers have poured into Sturgis and the surrounding area.

Opponents of the Bear Butte development are expecting as many as 10,000 people to stand with them in solidarity to protest this intrusion on their land. When asked whether or not he believes there will be clashes between protesters and bikers, Alexander White Plume said, "We can't defend Bear Butte violently because it is a sacred site. But our younger generation is talking about direct action."

Meanwhile, Allen's development is taking shape. He has announced plans to include a rodeo arena on the site by 2008, and he has said that although he respects the Native people, he has the right to conduct business. The state of South Dakota agrees with him, because none of the legal or moral objections put forth have held sway with legislators who earlier this year rejected legislation to create a four-mile buffer around Bear Butte. Hundreds of First Nation peoples traveled more than 200 miles to attend hearings and testify against granting the liquor license. But Bob Mallow, one of the five Meade County Commissioners who voted in favor of Allen's request, said in a phone interview that none of the area's residents spoke out against it.

"If there's nothing there, we're talking about two and a half miles from Bear Butte," said Mallow. "The location is fine with us. It's a municipality. If you have a church down the street two blocks, that makes sense, but this distance seems like enough."

Allen, who has traveled to Sturgis annually since 1986, said he visits the butte every day during the rally and added that he wants to share the "magic of our precious 600 acres with not just the Native Americans but with anyone open to experiencing something greater than the common rally experiences."

Even though county and state lawmakers have green-lighted the project, the First Nations peoples are undaunted in their quest to protect this religious site. Bear Butte is one of the last remaining undeveloped sacred sites in the United States.

"We want to keep it that way," said White Plume. "Leave it in its original form. It's where we go to do our vision quest. We do ceremonies that need silence. Putting a bar and concert hall there would be like us holding a powwow outside a synagogue when they're praying."

Friday, May 5, 2006

STURGIS � Meade County voters will not be given the chance to decide whether an Arizona man should be allowed to sell beer near Bear Butte.

Despite a number of petitions that were turned in seeking to refer the license to a countywide vote, the Meade County Commission unanimously decided Thursday morning that their decision to grant a license to Broken Spoke owner Jay Allen was an administrative action and, therefore, the issue cannot be referred to a vote.

The issue of selling liquor near Bear Butte has been the subject of two organized protests and likely will be the subject of a third. Allen has now applied for a liquor license, which would be transferred from Mad Mary’s Steakhouse. The commission is expected to decide that matter next month.

On April 4, the commission unanimously approved a beer license for Allen’s new facility, Sturgis County Line and Bear Butte Sunsets, after nearly two hours of testimony against the action from American Indian activists who consider Bear Butte sacred.

Allen bought 600 acres north of Bear Butte last summer. The campground and saloon, now under construction, are set to open in time for the 2006 Sturgis motorcycle rally.

Opponents spent the past week gathering more than 750 signatures from Meade County residents in an attempt to overturn the commission’s decision. However, the county commission decides whether the issue is referable.

According to commissioner Dayle Hammock, the commission reviewed its decision and legal cases and met with lawyers in the state’s attorney’s office before making the decision.

According to state law, administrative decisions are not subject to a referendum, but legislative decisions are.

By definition, a legislative decision is “one that enacts a permanent law or lays down a rule of conduct or course of policy for the guidance of citizens or their officers. Any matter of a permanent or general character is a legislative decision.”

Hammock said approving a beer license does not fall within that definition.

“If we made the law, it would be referable,” Hammock said. “We followed the procedure; therefore, it was an administrative process.”

Anne White Hat, a member of the Bear Butte International Alliance, criticized the board’s decision. She said she expects a public outcry.

“Are you saying that the voice of the people does not matter to you?” White Hat asked the commission.

Hammock defended the decision.

“We have followed the law, and if you do not like the law, you need to go to the Legislature,” Hammock said. “The Legislature makes the law; we follow the law.”

White Hat said the decision was an easy way out for the commissioners.

“We feel you are making a really bad decision,” White Hat said. “We’re not going away. We will be back.”

White Hat told the commissioners that her group already had pursued the next steps. Two separate groups filed court challenges Tuesday in 4th Circuit Court. Rapid City attorney Bruce Ellison filed one challenge on behalf of Meade County rancher Jessie Levin and six others.

According to the document, the group identified 10 different grounds for the appeal, including unsuitable location, failure to follow proper legal standards in the application process and violation of due process.

Also, the document alleges that a conflict of interest exists regarding commissioner Dean Wink. Before a legislative committee in January, Wink testified against a bill that would have banned alcoholic-beverage licenses within four miles of Bear Butte. That testimony indicates an “actual risk of prejudice and/or bias of said decision maker and/or personal and/or selfish motives which influenced and tainted the proceedings, and deprived opponents of the granting of the license of a fair and impartial consideration and of a fair hearing.”

Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe attorney and state legislator Tom Van Norman filed another similar challenge on behalf of the tribe. Van Norman’s suit alleges that the county commission acted “arbitrarily and capriciously” in determining Allen’s character and that the commission erred in “placing the burden of demonstrating suitability of character upon the challengers.”

Nancy Kile, also a member of the Bear Butte International Alliance, said the issue is not one of American Indians versus bikers or residents against bikers.

“It’s an issue of Meade County residents wanting to take our land back,” she said.

Kile said that being granted a liquor license is a privilege, not a right. She said in exchange for the license, citizens expect accountability and responsible businessmen.

Levin said she expects public outrage at the commissioners’ decision to deny the petitions.

“There was a hope that the people were finally going to get a say and a vote,” Levin said. “Our vote was taken away.”

Although the issue of Allen’s malt-beverage license is far from finished, his application for a liquor license could overshadow it. On Thursday, Meade County Auditor Lisa Schieffer said that the county received an application for a full liquor license for the Sturgis County Line facility. The license is a retail on-sale license that would be transferred from Mad Mary’s Steakhouse near Black Hawk.

Although the county is not involved in the private transaction, including the cost for the license, they make the ultimate decision about the approval of the transfer.

The commission will meet today to officially set the hearing for Friday, June 9, at 9 a.m. in the courtroom of Meade County Courthouse.

Thursday, April 6, 2006

Thursday, April 6, 2006Beer license approved near sacred Indian butteBy Joe KafkaThe Associated PressDOUG DREYER / APJay Allen, right, who wants to build a biker bar at the base of Bear Butte, sits near Chief Arvol Looking Horse, a spiritual leader from the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota, on Tuesday during a Mead County Commission meeting.STURGIS, S.D. — To American Indians, Bear Butte is a place to pray and meditate, where colorful prayer cloth and pouches with offerings of tobacco and sage are tied to tree branches along a hiking trail.For business owners, the 4,422-foot peak is a destination for thousands of bikers who fork out money for beer and a place to camp during an annual rally in nearby Sturgis.Despite strong opposition from Indian groups hoping to prevent further encroachment on the mountain, Meade County authorities Tuesday unanimously approved a beer license for a campground, biker bar and concert area.The butte, on the fringe of the Black Hills, is in a state park and is protected as a National Historic Landmark. However, it is surrounded by private property.One of those landowners is Jay Allen, who owns the Broken Spoke Saloon in Sturgis, just a few miles from the mountain.Allen plans to open a bar about 2 ½ miles from the base of Bear Butte, drawing customers during the monster motorcycle rally that draws several hundred thousand people each August. He plans to also take advantage of the rally to fill his campground and sell beer.Allen first announced development of the project on a square mile of prairie last summer, proposing to call it Sacred Ground. He talked about building an 80-foot Indian statue as a tribute to tribes but abandoned the idea and changed the project's name to Sturgis County Line after criticism from Indian groups.He argued at the hearing that he has a right to develop his land, which totals about 600 acres. But amid strong opposition from a room full of Indians from several tribes, Allen pledged to be a good neighbor."I'm embarrassed that it's evolved to this," he said.State officials have said at least 17 tribes place special significance on Bear Butte. Others have said nearly 60 tribes consider the peak sacred. Bear Butte, a volcano that never erupted, has been a state park since 1961, and a special area is set aside for Indian ceremonies.

Wednesday, April 5, 2006

STURGIS � After listening to nearly two hours of comment � some for, most against, and much of it impassioned � the Meade County Commission voted 5-0 to approve a beer license for a new Sturgis motorcycle-rally bar and campground near Bear Butte, a sacred site to many American Indians.

Entrepreneur Jay Allen, owner of the Broken Spoke Saloon, bought 600 acres of land north of the butte. He plans to open a new Broken Spoke Saloon and Sturgis County Line Campground on the site for the 2006 Sturgis motorcycle rally. Later, he hopes to open a concert venue as well.

But opposition to Allen’s plan has been intense. Diverse American Indian groups including the Sturgis-based Bear Butte International Alliance and the Northern Cheyenne Tribe of Montana oppose the project. The Meade County Commission received 633 letters on the subject. There was even an op-ed piece in the Los Angeles Times decrying Allen’s proposal.

Tuesday’s commission meeting culminated a day of prayer and protest by Indian groups that began at Bear Butte and ended on the streets of Sturgis.

More than 400 marchers, singing and chanting “Save Bear Butte,” walked in a slow procession behind a Lakota drum group and spiritual leader Arvol Looking Horse. The march ended at the front entrance of Meade County Courthouse.

Protesters carried signs that read “The End is Near, Jay Allen is Here” and “Develop Your Mind, Not Sacred Sites.”

Inside, the courtroom-turned commission room had space for only 70 people. Most of the crowd waited outside through the entire meeting.

About 25 journalists crowded into the jury box-turned press gallery as Jay Allen made his case for approval of the beer license � and 20 opponents tried to persuade the commission to deny the license.

Allen’s attorney, Bryce Flint, told the commission that the bar itself would be 2-1/2 miles north of the base of Bear Butte. He noted that other licensed biker bars and music venues, including one across the road from the Sturgis County Line property, are as close or nearly as close to Bear Butte.

Among those who spoke on Allen’s behalf was Sasha Mullins, who works for the Broken Spoke. She described her boss as a big-hearted person who wants to develop a harmonious environment for his employees and his patrons.

Flint noted that Allen’s beer-license request meets both legal tests set down by state law � character of the applicant and location of the establishment. He said Allen, who operates Broken Spoke Saloons at motorcycle events in four states, has been found to be a responsible businessman. Flint also said the neighboring landowners support his right as a landowner.

The Meade County Commission apparently agreed. There was little discussion among the five commissioners before the 5-0 vote. Dean Wink was the only commissioner who spoke to the crowd.

“I’m not convinced that Meade County needs another biker bar,” Wink said. “I do feel strongly � that private property rights have been eroded.” He said Allen’s proposal meets the standards set by the state and the county and therefore deserves a beer license. “I have a problem deviating from the standards we’ve set down.”

The decision came despite a series of passionate speeches from Indian people who talked of the sacredness of Bear Butte and its role in their cultural history. They spoke about the need to preserve the sanctity of Bear Butte so that future generations of Indian pilgrims will have a place to fast, pray and cleanse their spirits.

Speakers compared Bear Butte to Jerusalem, to Mecca, to the Christian Bible and to Mount Sinai.

“Bear Butte is a sacred place, and we need to keep it as our grandfathers (kept it),” said Looking Horse, who is revered in Lakota religion as the keeper of the sacred calf pipe. “When we sit on top of Bear Butte, we communicate with our creator.”

Carter Camp of the Intertribal Coalition to Defend Bear Butte also spoke. His group is pushing for a five-mile buffer around Bear Butte. He told the commissioners that generations of American Indian soldiers who fought for the United States have come home to Bear Butte to heal their spirits. He said every biker that goes to the new Broken Spoke Saloon will go rumbling past Bear Butte. “The location of this could not be worse,” he said.

The Northern Cheyenne Tribe, which traces its very survival to Bear Butte, has been buying land around Bear Butte for years, L. Jace Killsback, a member of the Northern Cheyenne Tribal Council, said. He said the tribe has about 700 acres set aside, and it is trying to buy more.

Others said they have no objection to Jay Allen opening a biker bar for the Sturgis rally � but not at this location.

The Sturgis County Line proposal also apparently renewed some of the debate in Meade County about the Sturgis motorcycle rally. Jesse Levin, a non-Indian rancher who lives 30 miles east of Sturgis, told the commissioners that she is disgusted by the trash, dust and drunken bikers that she has seen at her place.

“When is enough going to be enough for us in Meade County?” she asked the commissioners.

State Sen. Stan Adelstein, R-Rapid City, who chairs the House-Senate Tribal Relations Committee, also spoke against the measure, as did Bruce Ellison, a Rapid City attorney.

Ellison said the United States was founded on the principle of religious freedom. “We have to figure out a way in which we can co-exist,” he said.

The two Democratic state lawmakers, by introducing legislation to prohibit liquor licenses within four miles of Bear Butte near Sturgis, are seeking to protect a site that is sacred to many American Indians on the northern Great Plains.

“But we don’t want to scare anybody, either,” Valandra said this week.

Valandra, a Rosebud Sioux, and Bradford, a member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, said they are working on an outreach effort to let people who think they might be affected know that the legislators want to talk to everybody.

“We know that we are causing concern for many people out there,” Valandra said. “We want to hear their views. � They’ve got our cell-phone numbers.”

Specifically, HB1233 says that on-sale licenses would not be issued to current businesses or those that will be within four miles of the boundaries of Bear Butte State Park.

The action comes as a result of an announcement last summer by Jay Allen, the Arizona-based owner of the Broken Spoke Saloon in Sturgis. He wants to build a biker bar and concert site on land south of Bear Butte for this year’s Sturgis motorcycle rally.

“I remember thinking, that guy is going to catch some hell before this is all over,” Valandra said with a chuckle. “There will be Indians coming from all over.”

Allen did not return phone calls seeking comment before news deadline. But in an interview with the Rapid City Journal last year after opposition surfaced to his plans, he said, “From the onset, I’ve reached my arms out to the Native American community with totally good intentions to recognize their heritage, only to discover that it was not well received.”

State Sen. Kenneth McNenny, R-Sturgis, said the proposal may have “disastrous consquences.” He said the proposed boundaries are unclear but that he is concerned that the plan could affect a number of venues such as campgrounds and may include part of the city of Sturgis.